Lucky Sign
by Serah Villiers
Summary: 'Today's lucky colour is...red.' Hopefully today Sengoku will break his curse and find someone that will last longer than one date. Shonen ai, Sengoku x Kamio.


**Pairing: ****Sengoku x Kamio**

**Warnings: Shonen-ai.**

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**Lucky Sign**

"Today's lucky colour is…red." Sengoku decided, as he swung his tennis bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the front door. It was a habit, more than anything, and every morning he would decide on either a lucky colour or number and try to look out for it.

He passed by a girl with red clips in her hair and smiled at her, she shot him a suspicious glance and he decided not to pursue her. He knew from experience that it wasn't always the first thing he saw associated with his lucky symbol that was what he was supposed to go after.

He made it to school without anything else catching his eye, and began despairing as lunch break ended and he had yet to find his red symbol. After final classes he dejectedly trudged along to tennis practice, and slung his bag on one of the benches.

Muromachi glanced up from where he was getting changed and shook his head with a badly disguised laugh. "Let me guess, you're still out of luck?" Sengoku sighed dramatically and unbuttoned his shirt.

"I really felt good about today, too. It felt like a lucky day when I woke up." He shook his head and pulled on the clover green Yamabuki Chuu tennis shirt. Muromachi smiled knowingly.

"You say that everyday. And when was the last time your 'lucky symbol' actually landed you a date?" Sengoku was about to protest that he got lots of dates when his friend held up a hand. "Let me rephrase that; a date that lasted more than a few hours, and agreed to go on a second with you?"

"…" Sengoku laced up his trainers and pouted. His cerulean gaze travelled up and Muromachi frowned in confusion before realising what the star player was doing. He backed up towards the changing room door. "Ne, Muromachi-kun…what colour is your underwear?"

"Oh no, Sengoku-kun. Don't even think about it." The other boy ran out and Sengoku sighed. Today wasn't turning out to be as lucky as he had thought.

-

Tennis practice hadn't proved to be any luckier, though Minami had been sporting a red plastic plaster on his elbow Sengoku had decided against making a pass at his captain. It hadn't worked last time, and he had no reason to believe it would this time.

Sengoku was now idly wandering through the streets, his perceptive gaze constantly on the lookout for a flash of red; hopefully attached to something date-able. He was reluctant to go home (despite the abundance of homework he needed to get done) as that would be an admission of defeat. He had felt so sure that today would be a good day.

His head tipped to the side as he heard a familiar sound. He turned towards it and waited. For a few seconds all he could hear was the sound of the wind and of his heart beat, until it came again. The sounds of a tennis ball connecting with a racket. He made his way towards it, thoughts of dating replaced by the hopes of a match.

He came across a street court, graffiti marred the walls and there were chips out of the concrete. But it was a court, so he wasn't complaining. He made his way up the long flight of stairs, and found that the court was actually quite sizeable. Concrete stands surrounded it, and now that the sun had almost gone down floodlights illuminated the grounds. Actually, as far as public courts went, it was fairly decent.

Sengoku nodded his approval of the area then turned his attention to finding out just who was playing. Maybe it was someone he knew? There was nobody on the actual courts, and nobody in the stands. He frowned. Then the noise started up again, the loud thwacking of racket strings. He turned to the left and saw a boy rallying against the wall.

"Iya! Lucky!" He exclaimed as his face split into a grin. He started to make his way over.

Not only was it someone he knew (and had wanted a rematch with); in the harsh artificial light of the floodlights their hair was even more vibrant than ever. Deep, crimson red.

"Hey, Kamio-kun!" Kamio had obviously not been expecting company. His attention was ripped from the ball which went sailing past him, and he almost fell over. Sengoku smiled.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Kamio frowned, pulling earphones from his ears. Sengoku shrugged and stopped, standing a few feet away from the red head. Kamio's breathing was eerily even for someone who had only seconds before been running around and hitting with all his strength. It made Sengoku want to play him even more.

"I was just passing, heard you playing and decided that I was in the mood for a game." He adjusted the bag on his back meaningfully. "Care for a match?" Kamio's deep blue eyes travelled the tennis bag and his eyes lit up. Sengoku knew himself that rallying against a wall was entertaining for only so long.

"You're on." The determination in Kamio's voice was making Sengoku believe his lucky sign was true. The raw passion the younger boy portrayed was definitely a quality Sengoku found attractive.

-

Sengoku had changed into his green sweat pants and a white t-shirt. After w few warm up exercises he met Kamio at the net and shook hands, his gaze barely leaving his crimson hair. With every second that passed he was more convinced Kamio was his next target.

"Rough or smooth?" The perfectly platonic question caught Sengoku off guard, and he hesitated a second before realising what Kamio meant and deciding on smooth. Kamio didn't look remotely surprised when his racket landed smooth side up; he'd played the Yamabuki star before and knew he had a reputation for never loosing the call. "Do you want to serve first?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me." Kamio nodded and made his way to the base line on his half. Sengoku did the same and dug a ball out of his pocket. The sky was now ebony, and the court bathed in the silver glow of the floodlights. The setting was perfect, in Sengoku's opinion. And after the match (which he intended to win) he'd seduce the boy. Perfect.

"Ready?" Sengoku called, as he threw the ball into the air. His serve was fast, and he had been practicing to bring the speed of it up. Despite all of his practice he wasn't fool enough to think for a second the speed ace wouldn't be able to catch it. Sure enough Kamio was already in position for the return, his speed faster than ever.

Kamio's speed was definitely a gift, Sengoku thought bitterly, as the Fudoumine player made him work for each and every point. Though he won his service game Kamio's serve was faster than ever. The first two sailed past him easily and the third, though he managed to return it, flew into the net. Kamio easily held his own service game.

The cocky look in Kamio's eyes as he waited for Sengoku to serve made Sengoku smirk. He couldn't bring himself to be bitter, as he was enjoying the game. Though he was going to 'step up the rhythm' as Kamio would say; he really wasn't in a losing mood.

They were both playing all out; even though it was technically a friendly match Sengoku didn't know a single player who wouldn't give one hundred percent. Perhaps that was why, instead of letting Sengoku's return go and accepting it as a point lost, with a burst of speed Kamio raced as fast as he could and dived for the ball. He grazed it with the tip of his racket, and sent it flying into the net, and then skidded a few feet on the concrete. His racket landed in front of him, and he lay still, though Sengoku could hear his laboured breathing was shaky.

"Kamio-kun!" Sengoku dropped his own racket and vaulted the net. He raced to Kamio's side and winced as Kamio tried to push himself up. "Hey, take it easy. Are you hurt anywhere?" As stubborn as ever Kamio pushed away his hovering hands and roughly shook his head.

"I'm fine." He insisted, frowning at the stinging in his leg and arm. Sengoku snorted and caught sight of his arm. The long scrape was bleeding sluggishly, as was the wound on his lower leg. The bright deep red matched the Fudoumine player's hair perfectly, and now more than ever Sengoku knew that today his lucky colour was most definitely red.

"Come on." Sengoku stood up and offered the younger boy his hand. He easily lifted the thin boy up, and helped him limp over to the stands. "Has anyone ever told you that your hair is the most beautiful shade of red?"

Kamio blinked, and sat down. Sengoku produced a tissue from the pack in his tennis bag and began dabbing at the wounds. "Huh? Um…no." He answered suspiciously. The smile on Sengoku's face was unnerving.

"Well then, allow me to be the first." Sengoku brought Kamio's right arm to his lips, and he kissed the wound. Kamio ignored the stinging sensation, and was about to yell and struggle when Sengoku's tongue began lapping up the red blood. It tickled, but it wasn't as bad as Kamio had anticipated.

"What the hell are you doing?" He wasn't about to admit that, though. He pulled his injured arm away from the smirking older boy.

"Today's lucky colour is red." Sengoku stated simply, as if it justified his actions perfectly. Eyes narrowed Kamio growled and obviously didn't understand what that had to do with licking his arm. Sengoku sighed delicately and smiled. "You're red. You're angry, hot tempered and your hair is the deepest crimson I've ever seen. You're even bleeding. What more of a sign could it be? Kamio-kun, I think that it's destiny that brought me here tonight. I think that we're supposed to go out on a date- Hey! Where are you going?"

Sengoku realised his 'date' was edging away. He grabbed Kamio's arm and tried again. "Kamio-kun, I'm serious." Kamio's hurt and confused eyes met his.

"So you want me to date you because of my hair colour and because I slipped during a match? Tell me, does that trick _ever_ actually work for you?" Sengoku pondered this. "You are the worst! I'm leaving."

"I was glad."

Kamio stopped, and turned back. His anger had melted slightly, as the physical exhaustion caught up with him. "Glad?" He asked, wearily.

"Yes. That it was you. I don't like being alone, Kamio-kun. I enjoy being with someone, having someone to spoil, someone to talk to…to go to the movies with, to go on dates with. That's why I go out with so many people. But nothing ever lasts for me. They think I have a nice smile, or a charming personality but it's all just superficial. Nothing ever lasts."

Intrigued Kamio sat back down. Sengoku took his arm again and continued to clean out the wound with the tissue.

"I actually came here for tennis. I'd given up on finding my soul mate for today. So when I saw you here I knew it was destiny. I know you probably think I'm crazy – wait, don't answer that – but when I saw your red hair I knew I had to try. I've liked you ever since I first played you. You're honest, you're passionate; you're everything that I'd want. And you were here. It seemed too good to be true. I know that with you, there would be nothing superficial. I'd know exactly where I stand with you."

Sengoku gently stroked his thumb over the wound, and Kamio hissed in pain. Their eyes met and Kamio felt his cheeks heat up a little.

"I…I guess, we could…I don't know…try? You know. You're not all that bad…I guess." His blush deepened and Sengoku smiled.

"I'd like that. Besides, if I was with you I know that you weren't with me for my charming smile. You'd be the cute one of the relationship!" Kamio growled and lightly slapped him with his uninjured hand.

"You know, with remarks like that it's no wonder you can't keep a date." Sengoku placed a hand over his heart and pretended to be wounded. "Whatever. Are you going to help me get home or what? I don't think I can walk properly." Sengoku nodded and stood up, placing an arm around Kamio's waist and picking up both their bags.

"I promise, Kamio-kun, you won't regret this!" He gazed up into the sky and smiled. "Today is most definitely a lucky day!"

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**Please review.**

**Kamio needs much more love. This was intended to be a short drabble. I should just resign to the fact that I cannot write drabbles.**

_Completed: 31__st__ May 2007._

_Mayoki_


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